Nests Poems - Poems about Nests

Birds are chirping and singing, little ones in their nests are swinging. Some are red and some just flew, one went right by you. Flowers are now awakening, their pretty colors will be breathtaking. Love them in colors of white~pink~yellow and blue, a pretty site as we walk around the zoo. Did you hear the big yellow bee? His buzzing sound fills me with...

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My ears are like nests, the thrill of sound, surround sound of so many worlds the dove and the jay the phoebe, the robin …so many flocks I don’t need to unlock the meaning, it stirs my soul, sends me My ears are like nests, beaks opening, my chest heaving, relieving the images of night the -mares reprieving the warbler, the wren the skylarks, the sparrows …so many flocks In the Spring, to...

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sparrows spare...ow's... with their wing-s-eyes for full-light... and... bird brain differ-andt-says... that their spe-sees well past human percept-shuns... so that... their ups-downs and spirals spun... show wings without any attend-shuns... stan sand...

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The geese have migrated taking many songbirds with them. Some Canada Geese have chosen to stay in the parking lots by the busy shops, ensconced within their un-feathered nests. All day they direct the traffic, attack cars if they come too near. Night and day we Ohioans try to ignore them, but the geese have fluffed up their goosy egos, and will bar the way of weary travelers until...

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Like little birds that at last leave the nest, so too do our own little birds fly away. When life’s lessons have barely begun to be learned, they fly away to gain new experiences and insights of their own. Some will build very small nests and remain there without partners for many years. Most will mate and through procreation, they will create...

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colorful birds enjoy their apartment in the sky exotic island-like Rubenesque bubble nests fowls in a variety of gorgeous colors, reposing their plain round grass huts show them off well....

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(a poem in 2 Senryus) We carefully choose bits of our lives that we then weave into stories. Like birds building nests, making the safe places that keep and define us....

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Nests of weaver birds hanging down from the palmyra palm ...

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Siamese F i g h t i n g Fish, Bettas B l o w ...

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Still mourning dove nests, safety for tenuous eggs. Calm dove births her spawn....

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empty nesters watch leaves skating on frozen ponds… a soft sun beckons ©12/15/2019 Writing Challenge, December – Winter Haiku or Senryu Sponsor, Dear Heart – Wiishkobi Ode...

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Interlacing strands of love were woven with such warmth and care. I felt secure in your presence, united by trust in the unity of our shelter strengthened by the fibre of our hearts. But that was yesterday, before the pruning of my emotions, the crumbling of the fabric of my being leaving me vulnerable, exposed to your cruel camouflage of lies and the violation of...

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Tide out ... Swells break far and creep slow, sweeping tender 'cross washboard flats where they used to dance - where they lauded the ebullience of life in purpose ... and pairs. Beach ballerinas, flaunting perfect line ... toothpick legs busy as Baryshnikov 'midst the billows, leopard mantle still as stars while they streaked and pattered forth-and-back, never touching the hem of the combers. Nature has...

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I viewed them the spring before – robins in our grass and swallows flying circles around the front of the house. Weeks later I spied their nests - the swallows’ under an eave of our garage and the robins’ hidden in a cluster of our pear tree’s lovely green boughs. I wish to have seen the eggs the robins surely...

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In the trees, high up catching every breeze small twigs, dry grass, and leaves form the large drey, with stuffing from some cushioned chair pretended to be hay; atop the forked trunks of mighty oaks a perch of squirrels gather against wintry pokes. Encircling the trees in playful chase each independent life seek...

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